Falling, Catching
by Clara Barton
Summary: A series of scenes in a post-canon world. Not in chronological order.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay so. Sometimes I feel like writing 2x3 little things. At Amberlyinviolet's suggestion I am creating a fic that is really just… a universe, a catch-all for these scenes and little fics that may or not be in chronological order. I can't even promise that it will remain 2x3 - there might be some Wufei and/or Zechs or other cameos. I will try to add a running chronology to the author's notes.

Ideally, each of these chapters should stand-alone, ish. Ish. Okay. So they don't. Not really at all. I'm writing this thing totally out of order and yeah. That's what's happening and I'm sort of sorry.

A/N2: Thank you, as always, to Ro for beta reading and everything else.

A/N3: So the title "Falling, Catching" is from the Agnes Obel song. And this chapter was inspired by listening to Spoon and quite obviously stole the first two lines of "Can I sit next to you." Not ALL chapters will have a relationship to music, but if they do I will post so that you can give a listen if you want to.

 _One_

Trowa was almost late. Was, in fact, technically late. But these things never started on time. And Trowa could think of literally _anything_ that was more important than being early or on time to one of the perpetually dull and impressively offensive field agents assemblies.

By the time he eased open the door at the back of the largest briefing hall, the lights had been dimmed and the chatter had fallen to disgruntled mumbles while the projection screen at the front of the room flickered to life.

Trowa caught the door as it closed behind him, keeping it from slamming loudly and alerting the entire department of field agents of his presence.

He wasn't about to try to ease into a seat in the front or middle of the auditorium - he wouldn't have chosen to sit there even if he had been early - and instead, he looked down the back two rows. They were, predictably, rather full.

There was one open seat in the middle of the last row, and one other just one occupied seat in from the far left.

Trowa hugged the back wall and made his way there.

"Can I sit next to you?" he asked the dark figure hunched in the outside seat, legs sprawled out in a way that made it impossible to politely climb over.

The figure, wearing the regulation olive tactical pants and long-sleeved black tac shirt that were rather casual but still acceptable for this assembly, looked up at Trowa.

" _Can_ you sit next to me?"

Trowa stared.

It was Duo Maxwell.

And Duo stared back at him.

Glared back at him, really; the anger, and yes - yes, definitely - hatred glinting in his eyes even in the darkness of the auditorium.

"Thank you all for coming today. We have several issues to address."

Une's voice, crisp and clear even without a mic, interrupted the standoff between Trowa and Duo.

Duo grudgingly stood up to let Trowa pass him, glaring at him all the while, his chin thrust up and out and his entire body tense.

Trowa stepped too close, bumped against Duo's chest purposefully so that the other man stumbled back into the seats, and Duo's gaze narrowed but he didn't say anything as Trowa folded himself into the chair.

He could feel Duo's glare as the other man resumed his seat, and the knowledge, the _burn_ of his hatred, made it a little difficult to focus on Une.

"... annual performance evaluations. Your team supervisors will schedule the reviews over the coming months, and I encourage all of you to be as forthright as possible. Your cooperation is, as always, appreciated."

"More like fucking required," Duo muttered beside Trowa.

Trowa hated that he agreed with Duo, even just inside his own head.

"In the coming months, we will be stepping up our activities in the L3 colonial zone. As you are all aware, from the briefings and from the news outlets, the recent string of terrorist activity has endangered not just the local population but intercolonial trade, immigration and Earthsphere governmental activities. Last night, in an emergency meeting, the Earthsphere Parliament issued a directive authorizing Preventers' direct intervention and giving our agency autonomy to act independently of the ES Protection Forces. As a result of this, there will be some re-assignments and some restructuring of action teams."

There was a wave of muttered responses to that announcement.

"Just fucking dandy," Duo sighed as he straightened up and seemed to finally start paying attention to Une.

"Our theatre of operations will include not just the L3 colonial zone, but staging areas in the L4 and L5 zones. Operational activities will be overseen by Agent Chang. He has very, _very_ broad authority to execute Preventers actions. Anyone questioning _his_ decisions will be questioning _mine_."

Duo snorted, and Trowa couldn't tell if it was disdain or sympathy.

There had, predictably, been more than a few instances over the years when Wufei - and, to a lesser extent, the other former Gundam pilots - had had to deal with discrimination. Wufei, as Une's bureaucratic darling, took the brunt of the antipathy directed towards them.

Une gestured and Wufei, who must have been seated in the front row of the auditorium, rose to his feet and stepped up to the podium.

He looked out over the dark room.

"I don't need to remind all of us what is at stake here. I don't need to tell anyone here what will happen if L3 falls further into anarchy or, worse, is able to revitalize their military industry and form a junta that would rival the dreams of Dekim Barton."

Duo stiffened in his seat, casting a glance in Trowa's direction, and Trowa wondered if he was remembering Wufei's first-hand experience with Dekim, if he was thinking back to Wufei's decision ten years ago to join the man's army and attempt to put Treize's daughter on a blood-drenched throne.

Trowa was certainly thinking about it.

"For the past three years, we have all seen what happens when the Earthsphere fails to act, fails to intervene. Millions have died, the L3 economy has collapsed, and barbaric practices have emerged and haunted the news feeds."

"Does this bedtime story have a _point_?" Duo grumbled.

"Preventers was established after the Wars to ensure that humanity never again finds itself on the brink of another Earthsphere conflict that has the possibility to wipe out humanity. It is not an exaggeration to call _this_ one step away from the brink. It has taken months of negotiations and one unanswered terrorist act after another to convince the Parliament that we _must_ act."

Wufei paused and adjusted his glasses. It was a nervous tick, one that Trowa had pointed out to his comrade time and time again over the years. He still didn't understand why Wufei _wore_ glasses - he could just as easily get corrective surgery and not broadcast his emotions to the world.

Duo sighed, but didn't have a snarky judgement for Wufei's tell.

"Some of the operations Preventers will engage in over the coming months will be aggressive. Our goal is to prevent an entire collapse of order on L3, and to contain the growing conflict before it can further disrupt the Earthsphere. Agents on the ground will use force; we _are_ a military organization and it is our duty to preserve humanity's pacificism, now, more than ever."

Duo made a choking sound, and Trowa rolled his eyes at the reaction. It wasn't unexpected - Duo had made his views on pacifism, the Preventers and humanity as a whole, known on _several_ occasions, and more than one had ended with Duo and Trowa both bloodied.

Une stepped back up to the podium.

"Your task group and action team reassignments will be sent out before the end of the day. Things will move quickly, and there is no room and no _time_ for mistakes."

The lights flickered on, and Trowa blinked at the sudden shift. He wondered, also, why the lights had been dimmed in the first place.

Knowing Une, it was probably for dramatic effect.

Knowing Wufei and his loathing of public speaking, it was so he didn't have to look out at the sea of faces ready to question his every word and thought.

Beside Trowa, Duo stood and stretched, the hem of his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of flesh that caught Trowa's attention.

Duo saw him looking and shoved the shirt back down with a sneer.

Trowa stood, intent on leaving the auditorium, and Duo, as quickly as he could.

But Duo was, predictably, not going to make it easy. He was standing in the aisle _just enough_ to make it impossible for Trowa to leave without shoving him out of the way.

Trowa narrowed his eyes at the shorter man.

"Here's hoping we can continue not working with each other," Duo said, the words a taunt.

They had been paired together twice, and while the first mission had technically been successful - bad guys eliminated, collateral at a minimum - the second mission had been such a flaming disaster that they had both been put on administrative leave and, in the three years since, had never been partnered again.

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

"And here I was thinking you were ready to come crawling back to me."

Duo's sneer twitched, and his eyes, if possible, grew even more hateful.

"Being on your knees was always more your thing though, wasn't it?"

Trowa clenched his jaw, the words hitting their mark.

Getting into a verbal fight with Duo wouldn't end well. Getting into _any_ fight with Duo historically didn't end well.

Duo grinned wickedly, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

He looked on the verge of saying something more, but suddenly Wufei was there, one hand on Duo's shoulder and his dark eyes looking at Trowa in warning.

"I need to see you two in my office."

Duo spun around, eyes flashing and mouth dropping open.

"I didn't- We didn't even _do_ anything!"

Despite himself, despite everything, Trowa felt his lips twitch in amused sympathy at Duo's protest.

Wufei rolled his eyes.

"It's about your new assignments."

His gaze flickered between the two of them.

"This thing between the two of you - it needs to end _now_."

Wufei's command was met with matching glares from Duo and Trowa.

"It's been over for a long damn time," Duo assured him, without looking back at Trowa.

Trowa remained silent, and Wufei met his gaze and lifted an eyebrow.

"What do you need?" Trowa asked.

Wufei sighed, and he looked heavenward for a moment, as if for guidance and strength.

And Trowa realized what he was about to say.

" _No."_

Wufei grimaced.

"Wufei-"

" _Trowa_ , this problem is bigger than you and Duo, and the Preventers _need_ s the two of you-"

"Are you out of your fucking _mind_?" Duo had caught on.

Wufei looked around them, at the agents mingling in the auditorium and speculating on the new assignments, on the grim, dark future Wufei and Une had outlined if anyone failed.

"There is no one else who can do this," Wufei hissed. "Now can we _please_ go to my office and discuss this?"

"No." The one word was flat, cold and hard.

Wufei sighed and reached for Duo's shoulder again, but Duo jerked away, taking a step backwards, running into Trowa.

Trowa steadied him without thinking, hand on the small of Duo's back, and Duo immediately straightened, shoulders and spine so tense and straight they might as well have been cast from gundanium.

And Trowa - Trowa could feel the heat of Duo's body, the press of his shirt, and beneath that thin layer, his skin.

He stepped away, dropping his arm and rubbing his hand on the leg of his trousers.

"I'm not working with him again," Duo hissed. "I am _not_ doing it again."

"So you'd rather let humanity suffer because you're not over-"

Duo stepped towards Wufei, crowding him until the other man, knowing that this was _not_ the place for a confrontation, backed up.

And Duo fled, pushing past him and marching out of the auditorium, not even returning the waves and calls from the agents who knew him.

Leaving Trowa and Wufei to stare at each other.

Wufei sighed again.

"If there was any other way, I would have found it." The words were quiet, both an admission of failure and a plea.

Trowa drew in a deep breath.

"Give me half an hour and we'll be in your office."

-o-


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Okay so. Sometimes I feel like writing 2x3 little things. At Amberlyinviolet's suggestion I am creating a fic that is really just… a universe, a catch-all for these scenes and little fics that may or not be in chronological order. I can't even promise that it will remain 2x3 - there might be some Wufei and/or Zechs or other cameos. I will try to add a running chronology to the author's notes.

Ideally, each of these chapters should stand-alone, ish. Ish. Okay. So they don't. Not really at all. I'm writing this thing totally out of order and yeah. That's what's happening and I'm sort of sorry.

A/N2: Thank you, as always, to Ro for beta reading and everything else.

A/N3: So the title "Falling, Catching" is from the Agnes Obel song.

A/N 4 : Chronology: **2** , 1

 _Two_

"What is it?"

Duo rolled his eyes at the wariness in Trowa's voice, at the way the other man straightened up and looked prepared to take on an enemy.

"It's called a birthday present. Apparently, it's a _thing_ people do. They celebrate their date of birth by telling people to give them shit. So, here."

Instead of trying to put the small, wrapped box in Trowa's hand, Duo simply threw it at him.

Acting out of reflex, Trowa caught the box before it hit the ground.

Cautiously, he shook it, and the box's contents rattled against the confining cardboard.

"Just- just open it."

Trowa ran his fingers over the paper that Duo had hastily taped over the box. The box itself was the recently-emptied package of tea that Wufei had given Duo a few months ago. It had been the only thing on hand that was the right size, and hopefully the shiny silver paper made it gift-appropriate.

"I don't have a birthday," Trowa murmured.

"Sure you do. Says it right in your Preventers files. June 23rd."

Trowa frowned, and looked through his bangs at Duo.

"That's not _my_ -"

"It's Trowa Barton's birthday, so unless you've decided to go by some other dead guy alias this week, it's _your_ birthday. Okay? Or should I start asking for _Greg_ to fuck me harder? Or maybe tell _Tony_ to get down on his knees? Or thank _Alex_ for-"

Trowa's lips twitched, amusement warring with his doubt.

"Just… just open it?"

"I didn't get you anything," Trowa pointed out.

Duo rolled his eyes again.

"It's not _my_ birthday, it's _your_ -"

"When is your birthday?" Trowa interrupted him.

The question caught Duo off-guard and he tensed, forcing a shrug that he knew wasn't at all casual. At least not to Trowa.

Sure enough, the taller man narrowed his eyes.

"Never thought to give myself one," Duo muttered. "My dead guy name didn't come with one," he added.

It was probably the wrong thing to say - like most of what Duo said.

"What does your file say?" Trowa asked after a moment, his voice _almost_ gentle.

Duo shrugged again, before shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Probably something like 'permanently on probation.'"

"Duo."

He sighed.

"Look, this isn't about _me_ \- this is about _your_ fake birthday. And, hey, if you don't want the fucking gift, I can just take it back and-"

Duo reached out for the box but Trowa pulled it close to him, cradling it against his body protectively.

"I want it," Trowa assured him, his voice so sincere Duo didn't know whether to smirk or prepare himself for one of those dark conversations that they trapped each other into every once in awhile.

"Then- then just open it, will ya? I got things to do today, you know. I can't sit around _all_ damn day waiting for you to open a box."

Trowa looked on the verge of saying something else, of steering them into the darkness, but instead he fingered the edge of the silver paper, easing it open carefully, as though it was some confidential document and this was a covert mission.

Duo waited, as patiently as he could, which meant balancing on the balls of his feet and digging his fingers into his thighs through the fabric of his pants.

Trowa paused when he had the paper off, ran his finger over the Mandarin characters on the tea box but didn't comment, didn't react aside from that small gesture and the tightening of his lips. He opened the box and, holding one hand level, tilted the box over his palm.

A rock tumbled out.

It was smooth, a dark, cloudy green streaked with black and cream specks and streaks.

Trowa stared down at it, and Duo stared at Trowa staring at the rock.

"What is it?" Trowa asked again.

"A rock."

Trowa looked up at him, that exasperated look that usually had Duo grinning back at him, but now… now Duo was starting to think this whole damn thing was stupid and that he was an idiot, and _what the hell had he been thinking?_

"What _kind_ of rock?" Trowa clarified.

"Diopside. It's…" Duo drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's associated with, uh, love. And commitment."

Duo stared down at the rock, unable to look at Trowa again, to risk seeing Trowa's honest reaction to it before he masked it.

The rock still in one hand, Trowa reached out with his other and tugged Duo's right hand out of his pocket.

Duo looked down at their hands, at Trowa's nimble fingers as they knit together with his.

"Thank you."

Two words, said softly, that gave away absolutely nothing.

Duo risked a glance upwards and saw that Trowa was watching him, his thin lips curved into a subtle smile that nonetheless hit Duo like a freight train.

"It's… okay?"

Trowa looked at the rock again and nodded.

He swallowed hard, his throat working for a moment, and then met Duo's gaze.

"Yeah. It's okay."

-o-


End file.
